Mareeba - the Quiet Alternative

We pulled into the caravan park on the outskirts of Mareeba, having noted its claim to fame as the 'quiet alternative'. The owner, a friendly, straightforward bloke, ushered us in, stating he didn't do all the shenanigans of writing down rego and all that crap. We slot in beside the camp kitchen which doubles as the music centre for this Sunday night. Assembled with their beers is a motley crowd of greyhairs full of banter.

The owner is tucked in the corner of the kitchen with his keyboard and guitar. He is a professional musician from down South originally whose mother in law owns the site and has leased it to him so her daughter can be close. His repertoire spans Country and Western, and golden oldies from yonks, all remembered word by word, chord by chord by the drinkers. We jive rock beside the campervan to one of his funky numbers and the crowd turns to look, cheer, and invite us over.

All shapes and sizes join together, the arthritic, the nimble and not so nimble, the solo retirees and the couples...all having a happy jig. Charlie tells me the owner makes good money, a thousand bucks a session, playing rodeos and local events. The crowd is brought to hush to hear a poem sad but true about a bloke who got one of his Crown Jewels stuck in a stack of plastic chairs and how he survived with much hilarious rhyming to tell the tale.